


Recovery

by MisteryMaiden



Series: And It All Comes Crashing Down [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angry Amenadiel, Betrayal, Big Brother Amenadiel (Lucifer TV), Emotional Hurt, Everybody loves Trixie Decker, Gen, Hurt Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Hurt/Comfort, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Whump, Minor Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar (metnioned), Post-Devil Face Reveal to Chloe Decker, Protective Amenadiel (Lucifer TV), Protective Michael, Sad Chloe Decker, Sad Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Slightly Suicidal Lucifer Morningstar, Trixie Decker & Lucifer Morningstar Friendship, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23039005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisteryMaiden/pseuds/MisteryMaiden
Summary: Lucifer is alive, now the true fallout starts.
Relationships: Everyone & Lucifer Morningstar, Trixie Decker & Lucifer Morningstar
Series: And It All Comes Crashing Down [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654117
Comments: 34
Kudos: 616





	Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, I'm back with part 2 already.

Everything hurt.

That was the first thought the filtered into Lucifer’s mind as he came back to consciousness. His entire body ached with such a fierceness that he almost wondered if he had Fallen again.

Except this felt worse than that have, though he’d never thought such a thing possible before. It wasn’t just his soul that felt shredded, it was every single inch of him. Body, wings, and soul ached in a way that made him wonder what, exactly, had happened.

He almost wished he hadn’t as everything flooded back. If an angel could get amnesia, he wished that he could be the first.

She’d lied to him and poisoned him. Given him over to that priest, to be sent to Hell. He wanted to say that she hadn’t known the details behind it, but he wasn’t sure. Not anymore. The knife with her blood filling it, the necklace that he’d given her to channel the power behind the spells, all of it pointed to her having full knowledge of what was going to be done. Denial had left him the moment that the priest had finished carving up his chest.

He’d stop struggling to stay awake once the priest had started on his wings. He’d tried to use them to defend himself only to have the magic of the circle attack him with every mere twitch. Helpless and bleeding at the hands of a human priest.

Had this been the plan? Lucifer wondered brokenly. Had his Father planned this from the moment that He’d ensured Chloe would be in his path? He wanted to say no, that not even his Father would do such a thing, but his Mother had told him the truth. That his Father had wanted to destroy him instead of banishing him all that time ago. That stung, even now. He wondered if that wouldn’t have been a better fate.

He could remember her words. _“Not to me.”_

A lie. One he’d fallen for, like the unteachable moron that he was. Even after he’d seen her horror, Cain’s body on the floor, and she’d disappeared for weeks, he’d let himself fall for her lies. Her assurance that it changed nothing. She’d even pretended to call for help, pretended that whatever had been in that wine had affected her too. He’d fallen for it, allowed himself to fall unconscious because _he’d trusted her._

_“I only had a small sip; I should be fine. Right now, let’s worry about you.”_

He was so stupid.

“Shhhhh,” a soothing voice whispered. He thought that he should know the being that spoke yet he couldn’t place it. What was the point, he thought bitterly. It would only end the same way everything else did, with him in pain and alone, only demons for company.

He should have listened to Amenadiel and gone back to Hell instead of thinking that he could ever have a life of his own choosing. What had he been thinking? He should have known better. It always ended badly for him in the end. It _would_ always end badly for him.

Every breath made his muscles scream in pain and Lucifer wondered if it was too much to just stop breathing. Stop existing. He didn’t want to do this anymore.

He was so _tired._

“Please don’t do this, Luci.” Was that Amenadiel? “Please. We can’t lose you too.”

Amenadiel had been less annoying lately, Lucifer thought. His brother had slowly been ridding himself of that holier than thou attitude that had always prompted their many fights.

 _You thought Chloe loved you._ A traitorous voice whispered in his head. _What if Amenadiel’s behavior was just another lie? Another way for him to return you to Hell?_

A test, Lucifer remembered brokenly. Amenadiel had thought that Lucifer had been his test at one point. What if the only reason he’d been trying these past years was to get his wings back? To leave Lucifer alone in Hell while his eldest brother rejoined their family and left him behind again.

 _Of course, it was._ The voice whispered. _Why else would he spend time with you? You’re the outcast, the_ evil _one in the family, remember?_

Blackness filled his vision once more as Lucifer let go.

He was just _so tired._

“You better not leave us,” a voice that sounded like Raphael’s snarled in his ear. There was the sound of hysteria that nearly had him questioning the identity of the speaker. “You _will_ live through this, Lu. We can’t say goodbye to you as well, brother.”

He almost wanted to reply, to point out that there was nothing to say goodbye to; the darkness dragged him back down before he could.

He welcomed its embrace.

_It was so peaceful there._

“Don’t leave me, Samael.” A broken voice identical to his own whispered as he became aware again. “I will follow you, brother. There is no place you will ever go that I will not follow you. _If you die here, I_ will _follow you._ ”

He was gone again before he could tell Michael that he wasn’t worth it.

_He was lost in a sea of darkness that not even his light could penetrate. The pain was gone from him and he couldn’t stir a single emotion at his situation. It had been so long since he’d been without pain and Lucifer wanted to stay here forever._

_What was left for him in the real world? Chloe had sold him out. Had given him to that priest, who had tortured him, slicing him open with a danger-filled with her blood._

_Her blood, given of her own Free Will power by Enochian magic that held him bound and shackled. The pain, physical and emotional, surpassed even that of the Fall. At least then, he’d had anger to fall back on._

_Now?_

_He just felt_

empty.

_Lucifer blinked. He couldn’t remember what he’d been thinking about._

_Nothing seemed important here._

_There had been a name, he thought. Someone important._

_What did it matter, though?_

_Nothing matters but the_

nothingness.

_He shook his head, confused._

_Something was wrong with him, he knew. He couldn’t remember what it was, why he was here._

_Had he done something wrong?_

_He must have._

_Maybe he should just_

sleep. 

_The being stared at the darkness above, content._

_It was so quiet here. They wanted to stay here forever._

_They’d had a name once, but they couldn’t remember it._

_That didn’t bother them, though._

_Names didn’t matter here, after all._

‘Please. Please don’t let him die. We need to let him know we still love him. Please, God, don’t let him die.’

_Who was that? They sounded so sad._

_The being wondered if they should find them, make them happy._

_Something stirred in them, though they couldn’t identify it._

‘Pudding. A whole shitload of pudding, you absolute asshole. Just _come back._ ’

 _The stirring grew and the being wanted to scream. It_ hurt _. Why did it_ hurt?

It wasn’t supposed to hurt here.

_The blackness flickered and they could see things. So many things._

_People-_ Ella, Linda, Daniel, Beatrice, Amenadiel, Mazikeen- _and they were crying._

_Why were they crying?_

_They should join him, the being thought. They could be at peace with him here._

_…Him?_

_Rage trembled the earth and more people-_ humans- _were there. Many of them, all being torn to shreds in by the rage that made existence tremble._

_Why was He angry?_

_Samael didn’t_ want _Him to be angry._

_Was that his name? Samael?_

_It didn’t_ feel _right._

 _The face of three beings, like Samael-_ no, not Samael, someone else- _assaulted him. They were crying and filled with grief that made him_ ache.

Linda, Daniel, Ella, Beatrice, Amenadiel, Azrael, Michael, Raphael, _Father._

 _The names and faces, over and over and_ over and over.

 _They were calling for someone. A name that made Samael ache at the_ rightness _of it._

 _They wanted him to come_ home.

Lucifer!

 _With a strangled cry,_ Lucifer fought.

His humans needed him.

* * *

The Silver City was subdued in a way that it had never been.

Grief had graced the silver walls of Heaven before, however, it had never been like this.

Never before, not even the day that their Father had cast out their Mother, had the Silver City seemed so dim, as if the Light was being sucked out of the wall surrounding them. Black leached into the sky where once a bright, shining star had illuminated everything.

The Morning Star, always brighter than the sun that looked over Humanity, now looked as if it might fade at any moment. A result of its creators waning strength. The very sight of it scared all those who walked the Silver City’s streets.

The full story was to be announced as Raphael stabilized their Fallen brother. Amenadiel, who knew the story, had opted to stay with their siblings, leaving Azrael and Michael to make their way towards the Courtyard.

Azrael was conflicted as she walked away from her favorite sibling, not wanting to leave his side for even a moment. She’d made a mistake, not visiting him for so long. Putting their reunion off because of fear of rejection.

 _Awkward,_ she snorted as she remembered what she’d told him in his home. _More like I didn’t want to hear you tell me to leave._

She hadn’t sided with him, after all. She hadn’t been old enough to be part of the fighting and she wasn’t sure if she would have fought, had she been. If he’d asked her, she wouldn’t have known what answer she would have given him.

She didn’t even know the answer herself.

Fleeing the penthouse before he could turn around and tell her to leave, _because she was certain that had been what he’d been about to do,_ she found the nearest death and was gone.

She never regretted something more in her life.

Michael gathered a wing around her, and she realized she’d been sobbing again. Michael wasn’t any better, his face red from tears and eyes blacker than a Demons.

Lucifer, Fallen or not, was his other half. The Light to his Darkness.

If Lucifer had died, Azrael wondered, would they have lost Michael too?

The thought made her ill.

“My children,” their Father called from his place of Honor. Once it had been accompanied by a second, more ornate throne, though now it sat alone. Their Mother had been gone a long time.

Azrael wondered if she was a bad daughter for not missing Her.

“I am sure that by now, you know some of the facts of what happened,” their Father continued, voice grave. “A human priest used Enochian Magic combined with the freely given blood of a Miracle to trap and nearly destroyed your brother, The Morning Star.”

Azrael felt the blood leave her body. There was only one living Miracle among humans in this century. She could hear the cries and outrage from her siblings as the news settled in their minds.

“Chloe Decker, the Miracle in question, has been Dealt with.” The rage in their Father’s voice was unlike any they had heard before. Azrael hoped to never hear it again. “Those that help the priest, William Kinley, have been destroyed. Kinley awaits Judgment in the Cells.”

She wished she had been more brutal with that soul. Being merely thrown into the Cells had been far too gentle.

“How,” Michael whispered though all could hear him. “Did a human get Enochian Magic strong enough to nearly kill an _Archangel_?”

Father looked at Michael and then looked at them all. He closed His eyes and sighed. “Uriel gave it to him.”

Silence.

 _Uriel,_ Azrael thought with horror. _How could you?_

That magic wouldn’t have just worked on Lucifer, though even then there would have been some outrage, it would have worked on _all_ of them. Anyone of them could have been the one in Lucifer’s place, underneath that wretched _human’s_ knife. Amenadiel had been hurt just walking near it.

Hurt enough that he was still shaking hours later before she’d forced him to let Ezekiel treat him.

How lost had Uriel become? Attempting to kill a human ( _she wished he’d succeeded_ ), trying to use her blade to destroy their Mother, and now giving the means to destroy even an _archangel_ to a _human_?

“I have tracked down every single remainder of the Enochian Magic used,” Father continued after letting them digest that. “Those that approved such matters have _also_ been Dealt with.”

She wished that they’d been _destroyed_ instead. Like what they had nearly done to his brother. Her brother who had been so hurt, in so much pain, due to the actions of _humans._

The quivering of the feathers around her let her know that Michael agreed.

“Lucifer will live,” Father told them all. “I don’t know what the effects of the magic will be, nor if there will be any effects at all. This magic was only ever supposed to be used should in a worst-case scenario when your Mother escaped Hell. Raphael has stabilized him though he remains unresponsive to outside stimulation.”

The cold was back. Father _didn’t know_. Lucifer might not be destroyed, might live, and there was still a possibility that he’d be lost to them.

What if he never woke up? She cried, letting the tears and quiver in her wings be seen. She wasn’t the only one, either.

Their Father sighed and closed His eyes. He waited for the tears to slow as those that had broken regained their composure. She forced herself to stop her own tears, letting her wings be the only display of her terror and grief.

“Your brother will not thank Me for this,” Father said. “I cannot, however, let this remain a secret. If not for the care and grief of the few human friends Lucifer has found for himself, along with Mazikeen of the Lilim, your brother would not have lived.”

Father choked, the only sign of His own grief that He’d shown. “He did not _want_ to live.”

The outcry as that sank in almost brought Azrael’s tears back.

She’d known that, had known that even before the moment that Michael had whispered those words as Raphael had struggled to fight against the injuries that Lucifer allowed to take him away from them. It had been obvious from the few times he’d been semi-aware, the defeat and exhaustion in his unfocused eyes. Those eyes would haunt her forever.

They’d begged. Begged him to fight, every single one of them. Raphael had threatened him, Amenadiel had pleaded, Michael had promised to _follow_ (and if her heart hadn’t stopped as those words had left her brother, she would be lying) him.

Azrael had only been able to soothe him as he whimpered from his wounds, the words refusing to come even as Lucifer slipped further and further away.

Then Father had been there, His hand pushing against Lucifer’s skin, and it had changed. She hadn’t known what He’d shown him, only that it had worked.

“As such, I have granted passage to these humans, Daniel Espinoza, Beatrice Espinoza, Linda Martin, and Ella Lopez, from now unto the end of Existence.” Azrael nearly laughed, her tears returning with an edge of joy to them. She’d known that Ella and Luci would be great friends, from the moment she’d heard that Luci had taken residence on Earth. Her Father gave her a soft look and she knew that He knew what she had done. Knew, and approved. “I have also given passage to Mazikeen of the Lilim.”

 _That_ got a reaction.

Michael started as she gaped. Her Father _hated_ demons, had since Lilith had turned her back on the garden eons ago. She’d seen Mazikeen of the Lilim and there was no more demonic force than her brother’s right-hand.

In a rare show of patience, which itself was a sign of what recent events had done to their Father, He waited for them to quiet. “Mazikeen of the Lilim was the one that alerted Amenadiel to Lucifer’s plight. Mazikeen of the Lilim identified Chloe Decker as complicit, faster than Amenadiel would have been able to do. And when Amenadiel was injured by the Enochian Magic keeping Lucifer imprisoned, it was Mazikeen of the Lilim who dragged him to safety.” Father paused, waiting for any noise. When none came, He continued. “When your brother fled to retrieve me, despite being warned that it could destroy her, Mazikeen of the Lilim threw herself at the magic she’d witness bring an Archangel and Angel to their knee. Would have continued to do so, even upon her destruction, if not for realizing it was causing further injury to your brother.”

Well then, Azrael was ready to throw the demon a parade and declare her ever dying gratitude. From the stillness of black wings next to her, Michael would likely never allow a hair on that demon’s head to be out of place for the rest of existence.

Risking eternal destruction, knowingly, because Lucifer was in danger? It was no small wonder that Father had granted her access to the Silver City with the humans Luci loved enough to live for. Saving Amenadiel on top of that?

She wondered if demons really did have souls, after all.

She turned to look at Michael as she felt his wings leave her skin.

He was already gone by the time she turned her head.

* * *

Michael didn’t know where he was going or why he was going there, he just knew that he couldn’t stand there any longer.

A group of humans and a demon were the reason that Samael had decided to stay. _Lucifer,_ he corrected himself. It would not do to upset his twin by using the wrong name when he woke up.

He _would_ wake up.

He had to.

So, he flew, leaving his family behind. Father didn’t stop him, either, which Michael took to meant that He understood. Was allowing Michael to leave.

Or perhaps He was too rattled to care.

A burst of speed from his wings took him past the barrier between the Silver City and the Mortal Plane. He let his emotions guide him, too distraught to know what he was doing here instead of beside his twin’s side.

He just had to _leave._

Was this what Lucifer had felt all that time ago? The walls of their home collapsing in on him, threatening to bury him as the world quaked and shook in a way only he could feel? If so, Michael understood the Rebellion better than he ever had. They had always been quick to fight when something cornered them. Fight or run, as Michael himself was doing now.

If Michael had understood, would Lucifer had stayed? If he had helped talk to Father, the cooling balm of darkness to the harshness of light, would things be different?

Would his twin still be broken?

Two halves of one whole. The First Twins, the only to be born as Archangels. The Lightbringer, the Will of God, and the Sword, the Power of God. Together they had stood by Father’s side as He commanded the Universe into Being. Only younger than Time, which had burst into creation as the rest of existence began.

Amenadiel had always been proud that he had beat them, if only by a millisecond. It had once been a joke, one that their brother had used to poke and prod Lucifer, who had once been Samael, into a real fight. Those two always enjoyed their fights. Even after Amenadiel had joined Luci on earth, their brother had continued to poke and prod Lucifer into violence. Michael had watched each encounter he could with a longing that he had struggled to bury within himself.

Michael, the Sword of God and the Darkness to the Light, had always reframed from joining in on the fun. His entire being was all-consuming and he’d always tried to avoid fighting with his siblings, just in case he hurt them too much.

Samael had been the only one who knew why Michael had never joined those fights, the only one who truly understood. Even now, he knew his Twin would forgive him his role in this all. It was only in the nature of the Light to forgive the Dark, as it was the nature of Dark to long for the Light.

It made the poor attempt at anger Michael had clung to since the Fall faded each time he allowed himself to remember that. Sadness had always replaced anger.

He wondered if Lucifer had the same trouble, the same all-encompassing sadness whenever he looked to his side and realized that his Twin was not there.

Perhaps, Michael thought, Lucifer hadn’t been the only one broken by his Fall.

“Lucifer?” a soft voice asked, and Michael realized that he had landed. He looked to the voice, one that knew his twin, and saw the pureness that radiated from inwards. This was one of Lucifer’s humans, who had given his twin a reason to fight.

He almost pounced on the poor mortal in a way that probably would have frightened them, wanting to wrap his wings around her and show how grateful that he was. Restraining himself, Michael shook his head, letting his wings drop from their landing permission and folding them away.

Beatrice Espinoza looked distraught at his answer. “Oh.”

Lucifer would not want his humans to be harmed, Michael decided. Emotionally or Physically.

Michael may not be able to help his brother himself, but he could keep the ones that gave Lucifer hope from being injured. The thought settled something in his soul. Purpose allowed him to see past the grief that threatened to consume his very being.

“My name is Michael,” he told the child, who perked at the name. “Lucifer is my Twin.”

* * *

Trixie nearly cried when the Lucifer look-alike shook his head. She had hoped that Lucifer had been back, was coming to tell her that he was okay.

“My name is Michael,” the look-alike said, and Trixie perked instantly. Michael was an angel’s name and this man looked like Lucifer. “Lucifer is my Twin.”

Trixie didn’t hesitate and launched herself at Lucifer’s Twin. If he was here, then Lucifer was probably going to be alright. If _she_ had a twin, she wouldn’t leave her side unless she was safe.

Michael stiffened in the same way Lucifer did as she wrapped her arms around him. The familiar face, voice, and movement settled something in her that had been hurting ever since Daddy had told her Lucifer was really hurt.

God might have said he would be okay, but Trixie knew Lucifer didn’t always get along with his Dad. His Twin being here was a sign that Lucifer wasn’t going to leave, like Miss Ella, Daddy, Miss Linda, and Maze had thought. “Is he okay?” she asked, voice trembling with emotion.

Michael patted her, the same motion that Lucifer used, and it felt almost like everything was back to normal for a moment. But this wasn’t Lucifer and she wasn’t going to let Lucifer think that he was being replaced by his Twin. Lucifer would always be her favorite, she promised.

Michael was _here_ though. Lucifer would understand that she needed reassurance that he was okay.

“He is not going to die,” Michael told her. “He’s still asleep but he _will_ wake up.”

There was a promise there that Trixie thought felt like Lucifer. Lucifer never lied and she didn’t think anyone that was his Twin could do so either.

“Lucifer!” she heard her Daddy shout in joy. Trixie looked over as her dad dropped the coffee he’d ordered and ran full stop towards them, eyes wide. Her Daddy complained a _lot_ about Lucifer, she knew, even though he found a lot of Lucifer’s pranks kinda funny. He’d even been buying a lot of pudding and gummy bears that she wasn’t allowed to eat because they were for Lucifer when he came back.

She didn’t mind because Lucifer was hurt. Eating your favorite things was supposed to make you feel better when you were hurt. It had always worked for Trixie when Mommy brought her chocolate cake whenever she was really sick. Hurt was the same as sick, right?

Michael stared in alarm at her Daddy’s shout. Trixie saved him from answering her Daddy instead. “No,” she shook her head. “This is Michael, Dad. Did _you_ know Lucifer was a twin??”

She hoped not because that meant no one had told _her_ and she hated being left out of things.

Her Daddy stopped and looked at Michael with really big eyes. Michael patted her head again and stared back. His wings had vanished sometime before her Daddy had come out so Trixie didn’t think that he’d seen them. “Hello?” he asked. His accent and voice were the same as Lucifer’s as well, Trixie thought in surprise. She wondered how their Dad and Mom told them apart.

She voiced her question, curiosity driving her to speak as the two adults stared.

Michael looked at her again. “Wings,” he told her. “Luci has pure white wings. Mine are pure black.”

Oh. That made sense, Trixie nodded. “Cause Lucifer means Lightbringer.”

The surprise on both faces made her preen. She’d found that on Google when her Mommy wasn’t looking. She’d been waiting to tell Lucifer about it for a long time.

Maybe it was okay to tell Michael first.

“Yes,” Michael nodded. He moved stiffer than Lucifer did, Trixie thought. “Our Father gave him that nickname when Samael lit the Universe with his stars. He chose to go by it after he Fell.”

Trixie lit up. “Like how mommy and daddy call me Trixie even though my name is Beatrice!”

Daddy looked surprised and then smug. Trixie had heard her parents debating if Lucifer’s real name had been different when he was little. She supposed it made sense. All the other angels had names like Michael and Amenadiel, and Gabriel.

“LUX means Light,” Daddy laughed quietly. “Typical.”

Trixie could hear the fondness though. She thought Michael did too because he relaxed.

“Dan? Trixie?” Mommy called, looking for them. Daddy stiffened in the way that he did whenever he talked to Mommy lately. Trixie knew they didn’t want her to notice but they _always_ acted different after a really, really bad fight. She never let them know that she noticed, though. It might make them argue more or make them sad, and Trixie hated making others sad.

She felt Michael stiffen as Mommy saw him. She’d stopped dead, her face pale and eyes really wide.

“Mommy!” she grinned. “Lucifer has a Twin! This is Michael.”

Her mommy didn’t relax like Daddy had. She didn’t even move and that scared Trixie in a way though she didn’t know why. She just knew that something was really wrong and Mommy wasn’t moving.

“Mommy?” she asked again, her voice quiet. Michael was still stiff under her grip.

Lucifer only went that stiff when he was Devil-eyes angry.

Michael was Lucifer’s twin, she thought. Lucifer only got Devil-eyes angry when someone hurt someone he cared about. Like when Malcolm had kidnapped her, or the bad guy hurt Mommy. (The time with the bullies didn’t count because Lucifer hadn’t stiffened, then.)

Why was Lucifer’s Twin angry at _Mommy?_

* * *

Chloe felt her heart hammer in her chest as she looked at unkept curled black hair, familiar features, and dark eyes. Everything in her screamed that she was looking at Lucifer.

“Lucifer has a Twin! This is Michael.” Trixie sounded so excited and once, Chloe would have found this hilarious. Before smacking her partner over the head because no one had warned her he was a _twin._

The furious dark eyes that held no affection, no signs of _betrayal_ , let her know that she truly wasn’t looking at her partner.

 _Former partner,_ the voice that had once been her greatest tool to justice, tormented her. It had never let her forget just what she had done.

The Archangel before her looked ready to smite her where she stood. She had a feeling that Dan would simply sit back and let it happen. When he, Ella, and Linda had found out about what Lucifer was, she didn’t know. It didn’t really matter, in the end.

They all knew what she had done.

Dan had never looked so disgusted with her. She had tried to point out that he had made mistakes before, had done bad things because she was trying to protect Trixie and herself.

“FROM MALCOLM,” he’d screamed at her. “A PSYCHO THAT WAS TRYING TO KILL YOU. YEAH, I FUCKED UP AFTERWARDS WHEN I TRIED TO HIDE IT BUT I OWNED UP, CHLOE. I DIDN’T MAKE EXCUSES AND I TURNED MYSELF IN. LUCIFER WOULD NEVER HAVE HARMED A HAIR ON YOURS OR ON TRIXIE’S HEAD AND NEITHER WOULD MAZE! GOD HIMSELF GAVE HER ACCESS TO _HEAVEN_ , CHLOE. AND YOU WOULD HAVE ERASED THEM BOTH FROM EXISTENCE! NOT DEAD, GONE FOREVER!”

He’d stormed out afterward and they hadn’t talked since. She had no argument and he knew it. He was also right. Dan had turned himself in to stop Malcolm. It had been Lucifer, she later remembered, who had helped him stay out of prison and keep his job.

She was remembering a lot of things Lucifer had done that had been selfless. Following her to help save Trixie and ending up on the wrong side of a bullet. Going to _Hell_ to save her life from that poison, helping her find her apartment, being there when she needed an ear to listen, and believing in her when no one had during Palmetto.

The bullet necklace he’d given her, shy and so very sweet, that she had thrown away to someone who had used it to _hurt_ him.

And so much more than she had been too stubborn to see, burying her head in the proverbial sand because she couldn’t come to grips with the idea of the supernatural. Of that broken, nutcase she’d called _partner_ being Satan.

She _deserved_ the punishment that God Himself had charged her with. Probably more.

She thought of Trixie in Lucifer’s place and nearly vomited right there.

Trixie, she noticed, was looking between them and growing more and more upset. None of the others had told her what Chloe had done. Hadn’t been able to break her heart. Not even God had let her hear a thing of what she had done.

Dan had been honest, she remembered. Had sat Trixie down and told her everything. What he’d done, why he’d done it, the reason he was in so much trouble. Her daughter had been so hurt and so sad afterward. She couldn’t understand why her Daddy had done that to her Mommy and their relationship hadn’t been the same for a very long time.

Lucifer had been the one to talk to her and get her to give Dan another chance, she remembered. It was what had convinced her that this man, so sweet when he wanted to be, couldn’t be the evil humanity painted the Devil as. That and the rational (and so _blatantly a lie, bulletproof vest and blood packs her_ ass) explanation was what caused her to throw the blood away.

_“I need the eggs,” she’d told him._

How had that sounded to him? Chloe wondered in horror. She’d all but said that it didn’t matter because he was _useful_ to her. She could remember a lot of things she said that now, made her want to smack her past self. With every word, she’d hurt him. With every denial of his identity, she’d been denying a _part_ of Lucifer, a part he’d fought _God_ for. And Lucifer had _let_ her.

_“Not to me.”_

She looked at Trixie’s face, her daughter’s eyes so wide and confused, and closed her eyes.

It was time to own up.

Chloe had been six when she’d found out her mother wasn't perfect. She’d been nineteen when the word had taught her that life wasn’t black and white.

Trixie had been eight when she’d learned, in a warehouse with a madman, that the world was dangerous, was filled with gray.

“Trixie,” she said while centering herself. “I need to tell you something.”

She would be eleven when she learned her mother was only human.

* * *

Trixie moved to her mommy, her feet moving on her own.

The last time she’d heard that voice, her Daddy had told her what he’d done. That he’d helped the bad man who had kidnapped her, made Mommy cry, and hurt Lucifer.

She remembered the way that Lucifer had fallen from her hiding spot, deep among the shelves of the warehouse.

_“Your father didn’t mean for that to happen,” Lucifer had told her as she cried. “Much I would rather not admit, Daniel shot Malcolm because he was going to hurt your mother. Afterward, he’d been in shock and had tried to hide it. Not because he’s inherently bad,” Lucifer cautioned her as her lip quaked with tears. Lucifer was always panicked if he thought she was going to cry._

_It was one of the reasons she liked him so much. That, and he made Mommy really happy even though she grumped about him_ all _the time._

_Later, there had been a lot more reasons._

_“He just didn’t know how to tell you or your mother what he’d done. That he’d look the other way. He felt like her nearly dying was his fault and he never wanted you or your mother to look at him the way he thought he deserved.” Lucifer allowed her to climb on him, another sign that he’d started to soften to her. The way his arms laid awkwardly around her made her determined to teach him how to hug properly, though. “After that, he was backed in a corner and couldn’t find a way out.”_

_Lucifer had hugged her for as long as she’d wanted then._

_She started called her Dad, Daddy again the next day._

Mommy held out her hand and Trixie took it.

“Chloe,” her Daddy snapped. He sounded so angry.

“You were right,” Mommy told him. She sounded so sad and Trixie wondered if Lucifer would hold her like he had when he’d comforted her about Daddy.

She was afraid that the answer would be ‘no’.

She was afraid of the reason behind that ‘no’.

“I need to come clean. She deserves to know the truth. I won’t let you keep it from her just to protect her from-” Mommy coughed. “From my part in this. Baby, would you like to talk here or at home.”

“Home,” she whispered. Home was were Miss Alien was. She was eleven and shouldn’t need Miss Alien anymore but right now she felt like was eight all over again and Daddy was giving her that same look.

She waved goodbye to Michael, who looked guilty. Like he hadn’t wanted to cause this, didn’t like that she was sad. It was the same look she got from Lucifer whenever he did something that made her upset and wasn’t sure how to fix it.

It made her like him more.

It made her miss Lucifer, too.

She got in the car and rode in silence all the way home.

Chloe didn’t dive into the explanation right away.

She stopped at an ice cream store ( _Lucifer’s favorite before she-_ ) and ordered Trixie’s favorite. Her daughter took the comfort food in silence.

They only did this when it was something serious, Chloe knew.

It was gone by the time they reached her mother’s place. She was staying there until she could get the door in her apartment fixed.

Maze hadn’t stopped paying her half of the rent, though she’d moved into LUX full time again. She’d left a note.

 _‘I won’t have the little human hurt because of_ you. _’_

Chloe had cried again when she’d read it. A full week since she had ruined her life, she hadn’t thought that she’d had tears left.

She’d been wrong.

Trixie had retrieved Miss Alien and was sitting, in fetal position, on the sofa. Chloe couldn’t bring herself to sit down with her daughter, so she grabbed a dining room table chair and pulled it over.

Dan had done the same thing, she remembered too late as Trixie pulled Miss Alien closer to her. She had a lot more sympathy for her ex than she’d had then, in this moment.

“Mommy,” Trixie whispered. “What happened to Lucifer?”

“I-” Chloe stuttered before she centered herself. It was time to put the skills she learned as a cop to good use. “I found something out about Lucifer, and I didn’t-didn’t react well.”

“Did he show you his scary eyes?” Trixie asked, voice still small. “Maze says he’s got another face too, but I’m not supposed to ask to see it.”

Chloe felt her word fall out from under her once again at her daughter’s words. “You-you’ve known Lucifer was the Devil?” she croaked.

Trixie looked up from Miss Alien. “He used his scary eyes to make the bullies leave me alone,” she told her mother, not fully understanding Chloe’s reaction. “And Maze used her demon face on Halloween. We’re supposed to call it a Halloween mask, so Ms. Bensen doesn’t call you in about what I say at school anymore, though.”

Trixie had known since the beginning, Chloe realized with horror. Her eight-year-old had looked into the eyes of the Devil, saw him scaring the people bullying her, and had decided to make him her best friend. Maze had turned full demon in Trixie’s presence, and they’d gone _Trick-or-Treating._

Maybe Trixie had been the true Miracle the entire time, she thought numbly, remembering what God had told her.

No wonder Maze was so attached to her daughter. She wondered if Lucifer knew that Trixie believed him.

She didn’t think that he did.

“Do you remember, after Marcus, when we went to Rome?” she asked instead. She couldn’t chicken out now.

“Yeah.” Trixie frowned. “I didn’t like the books there. They were mean to Lucifer. Like how Amy was mean to me, only in a book and not the internet.” Trixie paused. “The internet is mean to Lucifer too.”

“Yeah,” Chloe was fighting tears now. “It is.”

Trixie looked at her like she was starting to see where this was going. Chloe and Dan were two homicide cops and they’d always encourage Trixie to look at all the pieces before deciding something. Dan might have wished she’d stop, once in a while, but Trixie was his daughter. Dan had always wanted Trixie to be as safe as he could make her. That meant always having as many of the facts as possible (and making sure that she never wanted to be a cop).

Chloe plowed on before her daughter could ask the question she could see coming. “I met a priest there, remember? Father Kinley?”

Trixie nodded. “I didn’t like him,” she told her mother. “He had mean eyes.”

Even her daughter was more observant than she was, Chloe swallowed dryly. “He had a lot of mean things about Lucifer with him. And I was very scared so,” Chloe stopped. “Do you remember when your friend Emily started believing the bullies over you?”

Trixie nodded and Chloe could see her daughter realizing what she’d done.

“He wanted to send Lucifer back to Hell,” Chloe whispered. “And I helped him.”

She’d said it. The first time since that night that she’d said it out loud.

Trixie started crying.

Her world burned all over again.

* * *

Trixie wasn’t stupid.

She knew that Lucifer had been really hurt. God had said he’d _live._ That meant Lucifer had been _dying._

Her Mommy had helped the priest with the mean eyes do that. That was why Daddy was angry, why Miss Ella didn’t come over anymore.

Why Maze left.

She jerked her head. Her Mommy had helped hurt Lucifer because he was the _Devil._

“Maze,” she gasped through tears. Maze was a _demon._

Her mother ( _not Mommy, Mommy wouldn’t have_ ever _hurt Lucifer or Maze_ ) wiped her eyes. “He was going to send Maze back too,” she answered.

Trixie felt cold in a way she’d thought only happened when she was sick. Was that why Daddy had been sick, when they’d sent her away?

She realized that was why Maze had sent her away. Maze hadn’t wanted to ruin her view of her mom and _hurt_ Trixie. (Mother felt wrong. Mom was better.) Maze had sounded so hurt, then. She didn’t think the adults had heard it; Maze didn’t like showing hurt. Trixie knew how to listen for it, though.

Mom had been going to help _kill_ Maze too.

She wanted-

She wanted-

_She wanted Lucifer._

Without thinking, Miss Alien forgotten on the couch, Trixie ran. Her mom called out for her and Trixie ignored it.

_Michael!_

* * *

Michael knew the moment he’d felt the child stiffen that he’d messed up.

He hadn’t meant to. He’d been planning on pretending the human was trash underneath his boot, unimportant to him.

He hadn’t prepared for coming face to face with the traitorous _mortal_. The child was close to Lucifer, he realized afterwards. They had always displayed the same body expression when they felt the need to stare down a threat to those important to them.

Human children were more observant than he thought, if she could recognize the movement. She could have only learned it from watching his Twin.

He felt fury at the idea of someone harming these humans that were so hopeful that he had been his brother. The adult male pacing back and forth had nearly copied his daughter when he’d thought Michael was Lucifer. He wondered if that was hereditary or learned behavior. Raphael had gone on a spiel, a few decades ago, when humans started exploring their own behaviors.

He probably should have listened more. Lucifer might know, he thought sadly. He’d been seeing a human ‘therapist’ (he wasn’t _too_ sure what that was). Maybe he could find that human and ask?

_Michael!_

He was moving before he could realize who had called him. This human was Lucifer’s and that made her Michael’s to protect while his brother couldn’t.

He found her in an alley, alone. She was crying and curled into a ball.

Michael thought that if she had wings, she would be wrapped in them.

She heard him land, saw his black wings, and launched. Prepared this time, he only slightly stiffened. Tears soaked into his robes.

He’d forgotten he’d been wearing those. It did explain the odd looks the humans had been giving him, though. He would have to change that, if he planned on protecting his twin’s humans.

And demon, he reminded himself. The demon had been the only reason they’d known Lucifer was in trouble and had put herself at risk for his twin and Amenadiel. She fell under his to protect now as well.

That thought still felt weird to him.

“Child?” he asked tentatively. “Trixie?”

She’d said that was her preferred name. Knowing his brother, Michael figured that Lucifer had mostly used _Beatrice._ If Trixie was what everyone had called her, Lucifer would have seen Beatrice as nickname instead. Unless she had protested, then Lucifer would have continued without stopping. Nicknames in the Silver City could only be used if given permission, after all.

Unless it was Menny, Michael conceded. The eldest had always been fun to rile up and, as little siblings, it had always been their job to do so. Which meant coming up with the most ridiculous mangling of his name whenever they’d been bored, using them only when their older brother had been particularly annoying.

Lucifer had been more obvious about it though, so Michael usually got away with it.

Still, he wanted to differentiate himself from Lucifer to these humans. He couldn’t help how he looked or sounded, they’d been born this way, but he could change his speech patterns slightly to make it easier.

He was proud when it worked. The small human burrowed into him further and the crying began to die down.

“Is Lucifer going to come back?” she asked, so small and sad.

Michael debated smiting the Miracle, though he firmly reminded himself that it had been his fault that this had been necessary. Father damn his reactions!

“You are his family,” Michael said evenly. “Father himself couldn’t keep Lucifer in the Silver City, away from all of you.”

They had been Lucifer’s reason to live. Michael would do his best to add himself back among that number once more once Lucifer was awake. Nothing would harm these humans until then. “I am here because he cannot be, yet. The moment that is different, I will make sure that you and his other family who live in this realm are the first to know. My word.”

His Twin would have schooled his humans on the importance of vows, Michael thought with a nod. That should help the small human.

Trembling replaced crying. It had been the right thing to say after all.

Thank Father, he didn’t know how else he would’ve calmed her down.

“I want Maze,” the human hiccupped. Michael nearly floundered at the thought of giving the small human to a demon before chastising himself. Mazikeen of the Lilim, he scolded. His Father had deigned to use the Demon’s name, which meant that she was worthy of his own consideration.

Not to mention, this Mazikeen had interacted with this small human more. She’d likely have a better idea how to calm her.

Michael searched the area and found the demon pacing his Twins’ home. Guarding and protecting it. He approved.

Wrapping the child securely, Michael took flight.

* * *

Maze nearly lost it when a beat of wings revealed Michael, holding Trixie securely.

She’d been warned by Lucifer a long time ago that Michael was identical in every appearance except for pitch-black wings that most used to tell them apart. She almost attacked when she saw Trixie, with tear stains on her face, clutching the feathered bastard.

The panic as the Sword of God gestured to the child had her stopping. Whatever had happened, the Archangel had brought Trixie to her and was clearly hoping to hand the little human over without a fight.

“Little human?” she asked, putting the knife away. Trixie blink at her and then launched herself. “What happened?” she asked, as softly as she could manage.

Trixie merely sobbed more.

She glared at the angel, who looked very uncertain. A look that she’d seen whenever Lucifer was left alone with the little human, Maze realized with hilarity.

The Archangel Michael had managed to become attached to Trixie in the, no doubt short, time that they’d interacted. She could see it in the way the black wings twitched, a reaction that angels had when they wanted to cuddle something, to give comfort to those they cared for. Lucifer had been bitching about it ever since his wings had returned.

She relaxed and waited, though kept up her glare.

She’d had to whup Lucifer a few times when he’d managed to upset the little human in the past. If Michael was this close in behavior to the Devil, then she had a feeling he was just as lost on what to do when it came to children.

Linda had suggested reward/punishment behavior, one time she’d asked how to train something out of a habit. Maze figured the punishment was a knife to the throat and the reward was being left alive.

She hadn’t mentioned that to Linda, though. Nor had she told her why Maze was asking. Maze had a feeling Linda would stop her and Maze had to keep some demonic pride. Plus Lucifer never protested when it came to the little human, so that meant he agreed with her methods.

“The _mortal_ informed the small human of what happened to Lucifer,” Michael said, the same accent and tone of voice she’d spent eons hearing. If it hadn’t been for the wings, she would have thought she was looking at Lucifer. “The small human requested my presence before proceeding to request for yourself, Mazikeen of the Lilim.”

The lack of disgust directed at her had Maze pause before she moved on. _All-access to the Silver City,_ she remembered. It looked like the Almighty had already passed that on to His children. “Why,” she growled. Anger was always a good fall back when she was confused about an emotion. “Did she think to call _you_?”

Michael shifted. “My Twin cannot be here to keep his family on this plane safe. I will do so until he is able.”

Maze would have gutted him for the lack of answer ( _t ~~hought about doing so because she wanted him to be~~_ ~~Lucifer~~ ) until Trixie spoke.

“He _promised_ Lucifer would come back,” the little human sobbed. “His _word._ ”

And that changed things. Maze couldn’t be everywhere. Dan, Linda, Ellen, and the little human did not all spend their time together. Worse, they could only call for help by phone, as she was a Demon and not an angel. Amenadiel would answer, she’d told them seriously when she handed them back their stolen phones, her number now on top.

Secretly, she worried that Amenadiel would need to be in two places and one of them would end up hurt while she could do nothing.

Lucifer’s Twin was solving that problem and he wasn’t lying. Like Lucifer, her lord had told her, Michael did not lie. Darkness could hide away truth, yet the Light would always reveal it to the world, so Michael had never seen the point in lying. Pretending, sure but Lucifer did that as well so Maze couldn’t hold that against him.

Well, not yet, anyway.

The archangel squirmed underneath her gaze.

She grinned and he squirmed more. _Still got it._

* * *

Lucifer lay still on the bed, his breathing normal and wings on their way to being fully healed.

Raphael didn’t dare leave him, despite this. She’d spent three long _weeks_ trying to stabilize him as he slowly drifted farther away from her. The terror of her leaving and him needing her kept her firmly in place.

Amenadiel sat with her, eyes just as focused on their brother.

As the eldest, Amenadiel had always felt as if he should stand between each of his siblings and anything that tried to harm them. The first time one of the newer ones had fallen and cried, their oldest brother had been beside himself in worry.

Literally, as it had triggered an accidental use in his abilities. Before their Father had taught them all to notice when Time stopped and taught Amenadiel how to allow his shade to fade instead of giving his siblings heart failure. Their Mother had found the whole thing adorable and had cooed to them as She wrapped them in Her arms.

Life had been good, Before.

Lucifer kept breathing and she watched.

She watched and waited.

Again.

And Again.

And Again.

And under the eyes of his two siblings, sitting vigil at his bedside, Lucifer _moved._

* * *

The moment he felt his Twin stir, his eyes widened and the humans around him froze.

He’d been staying with his Twin’s demon, in the home Lucifer had lived in on earth since his arrival on this plane three earth days ago. Another week in the Silver City, he knew but kept to himself.

The humans already worried about how long his Twin had remained unconscious, there was no need to further distress them. Not when Lucifer had remained unmoving for nearly two months in the Silver City, where time moved outside of Earth and Hell standards. There was no set amount, no five weeks to one week to help keep track. Only a celestial could feel how the movement of time followed within Heaven’s walls, even when on Earth. Time moved there as Father allowed and God had not been in the best of emotional states since Lucifer had been injured.

After a short conversation, the Demon and himself had been able to convince his Twin’s humans to stay within his home. It was only right, Michael thought, that Lucifer’s home be the safety net for his mortal family. Better, Maze ( _None of that Mazikeen nonsense, she’d snapped at him_ ) was always on hand to help Michael guard them.

He could feel Lucifer’s mark and Father’s promise on her skin. It calmed him in a way he hadn’t known he’d needed calming. He would never tell anyone that, on pain of death.

Well, except Lucifer. His Twin could ask to start another Rebellion when he woke and Michael would be right there beside him, this time.

Not that Michael thought there would be a need. Father was likely to give his Twin whatever Lucifer wanted without a single fight or raised voice, so long as Lucifer woke.

When, he wondered, had ‘Father’ become ‘Their Father’ and when had that changed?

Mayhap he would ask his Twin’s Linda. Maze believed Linda had the answer to every confusing emotion in creation. If that was true, Michael could not fault his Twin for seeking her help. Instead of asking, Michael stood from his place on the couch.

Without a word, because Michael knew they would understand when he was back, he opened his wings and vanished.

Next, he knew he had his very confused Twin wrapped in his arms and wings, quivering as the terror of losing his other half forever leaked away.

Two months with not a stir and Michael had wondered if he had uttered his first lie to Beatrice Espinoza. Michael didn’t stop the tears as they soaked into the sheet that wrapped around his Twin.

“Michael?” Lucifer’s voice was so hoarse and so confused. Healed wings twitched with the need to be comforted, though his Twin restrained them. Michael had no such impulse.

As Raphael and Amenadiel joined the huddle, their cries of joy likely shaking the foundations of Creation, Lucifer stared Michael in the eyes. Taking in the horror, relief, and _need_.

Without warning, his Twin began to cry.

* * *

God was moving the moment He felt Michael slam back into the Silver City, heading straight for the infirmary. The joy that He felt from Amenadiel and Raphael, sped His feet faster.

His children parted as He ran, full force. He did not tell them why He ran; He would have had to stop in order to do so. He wasn’t willing to stop, crossing the home He’d built with His Wife at the Beginning in the span of milliseconds.

There, huddled underneath a sobbing Michael, Amenadiel, and Raphael, His Lightbringer clung to his Twin and cried. It had been eons _before_ the Fall when He had last seen His Twins cry and huddle together.

He did not dwell on that as He changed His form to be able to Hold His children, as He had done when they were Young.

His Lightbringer stiffened at His touch before moving to curl into His form. He had a feeling that Lucifer would not be happy about that when he calmed but God could not bring Himself to care.

The Silver City glowed with His joy in a way it had not since the Rebellion. In the sky, He could feel the dimming Morning Star begin to brighten now that its power wasn’t needed to heal its creator. He could feel Azrael, only gone to do her job before returning to her vigil, bolted for them. His other Children began crying and He _ached_ to sooth them. He would not leave Lucifer, however, and He knew His children would never hold it against Him.

If possible, they would all be here, soothing that wounds that His Lightbringer had been inflicted with. Reassuring that they were there, should Lucifer just ask.

His son cried himself to exhaustion, falling asleep in the embrace of his celestial family, the Almighty gently set His children down. He did not want to, wanted only to remain with His child after such an ordeal, but He had another matter to take care of.

He had announced that, once Lucifer’s fate was sure, William Kinley was to be Judged.

And He never told a Lie.

* * *

Lucifer was, quite frankly, miserable.

He remembered everything, of course. The curse of being a mostly immortal archangel was what was now known as an eidetic memory. He could remember everything from the moment he was born, a small fledgling huddled next to his Twin, surveyed by both Parents. It was a very rare event for him to forget a single detail of his life and had only happened once every few eons. Usually after head trauma.

Lucifer really wished this had been one of those times.

The memories hurt more than he’d thought a memory ever could. Even after his Fall, Lucifer had still been able to look back at the time he’d had with his family, when everything was good, with fondness. It was why he had never truly been able to hate any single one of the hordes of angels he called sibling or even either of his Parents. (Though he had tried _so hard_ , wanted to hate his Father who had cast him out and that he couldn’t _hurt that much more._ )

Now, looking over the years he’d spent with _her_ , Lucifer wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and sob. Every moment spent with her, every conversation they’d ever had, was sullied with the knowledge that she could never have cared for him the way he had cared for her. Worse, Lucifer thought bitterly, was that he couldn’t stop himself for loving her still.

He was such a moron.

He should have learned after the first time she’d turned on him, early into their partnership. She hadn’t hesitated to pull that gun on him, after all. He had thought it had been a fluke after she’d come around and helped him put the situation right. She’d told him after that she’d never thought he’d been the one to kill the preacher, that she believed in his innocence from the very start. _It had only been procedure._

Had that just been another lie?

Where did the truth stop, and the lies start? It couldn’t have been just because of Cain, could it?

Was it when he went to Vegas? When he’d been devil-napped and dropped in the desert by Cain’s kidnapers for hire? Before his Mum had left to a universe of her own? The very first time they’d _met_?

Lucifer didn’t know and that hurt just that much more.

 _So much for the Prince of Lies,_ Lucifer thought brokenly. _I can’t even detect a lie from a_ human _after years of interaction._

He pushed those thoughts aside in favor of something that hurt a lot less. Mainly the fact that he was surrounded by teary-eyed siblings while wrapped in his Twin’s black wings. Azrael and Amenadiel were on either side of his bed. Raphael was situated just behind Amenadiel, to his right, working on his older brother’s wings. It seemed that whatever had been going on while he was out of it, Amenadiel had managed to get nearly every feather out of place on each wing.

Beyond that, there was not a single free space within the entire infirmary, with even more poking their heads in through the doorway. Door free, Lucifer noted. He’d always hated doors.

Whatever Raphael had done to heal him, it had only healed his wings and the knife wounds on his skin. His entire being still ached in a way that made him want to whimper, though he stomped down on the urge. He would not show any more weakness than necessary to his siblings. He refused.

“How are you feeling?” Raphael asked, breaking the silence in the room.

“I’ll be fine,” Lucifer rasped, speaking for the first time since the priest had started in on him with the dagger. His throat protested at the dryness. “Give me a day or so and I’ll get out of your hair.”

He really hoped that he’d at least earned a day of rest from his Father, if the memory of the Almighty’s rage had been any indication. Lucifer had almost put it down as a coma dream, probably would have if not for the way that Michael was wrapped around him. He just needed a little more time for the pain to fade so he could cross back to Earth. Maybe if he made a deal, he’d get to finish his vacation time until Linda, Daniel, Ella, and Beatrice passed before he was on his way back to Hell.

Or he could exchange returning to Hell for divine protection for his four humans. He wanted to spend as much time with them as possible, of course, so that wasn’t ideal. However, their protection was more important than his happiness, in his eyes.

He tried desperately not to think about Chloe. Lucifer didn’t know if he ever even look at the blond Miracle that he'd once loved again. ( _Still loved like the puppy that kept running back to its owner after every beating, to stupid to learn its lesson._ ) She had helped orchestrate his torture, had accepted his invitation for a date with the intention of poisoning him.

She wanted him back in Hell because she thought he was a monster. Just another criminal that had to be stopped. After years of solving crimes together, of being one of the best duo’s in the LAPD, Chloe still couldn’t see anything worthwhile in him.

Why would his Celestial Family be any different? They’d already thrown him out once, they could easily do so again. It would be better to leave before that happened.

“A day?” Raphael stared at him, sounding horrified.

Lucifer flinched, of course, he couldn’t have a day. Now that he was conscious and no longer in danger of being erased, they couldn’t wait to get away from him.

Michael growled at the flinch, clutching Lucifer closer to him. The Devil didn’t protest, not wanting the comfort of being this close to his other half to leave just yet.

Raphael continued on hurriedly, ignoring Michael and the flinch. “Luci, you aren’t doing any dimension-hopping for at least a week. You’re too weak from your injuries, trying it could have you relapsing. If you relapsed, I’m not sure we could stabilize you again.”

Oh, Lucifer thought. So perhaps he wasn’t going to be sent away just yet. A week in the Silver City seemed almost too much to ask and he hadn’t expected it to be offered. Dad had thrown him out eons ago, so long that Lucifer had given up hope of ever seeing it again. Now that he was here, Lucifer wished that had been the case.

It would mean that Chloe hadn’t betrayed him. ( _Don't think about her._ )

“Alright.” He leaned further into Michael’s embrace and closed his eyes. He’d recover and, in a week, he’d figure out what was going to happen from there.

Right now, he was just so tired.

Wrapped in warm wings and surrounded by siblings he’d never thought to see again, Lucifer slept.

* * *

“He thought we were going to make him leave,” Gabriel said numbly once it was clear Lucifer was asleep once more. Michael had joined his twin in slumber, both archangels making a strange swirl of black and white on the infirmary bed. “He was nearly destroyed forever, spent two months in a coma, and he thought that we wouldn’t even let him have a single _day_ to recover.”

None in the room could respond to that. They had all seen Lucifer flinch at Raphael’s answer, though she had been quick to explain fully. The Healer’s wings were dropped as if it was her fault that Lucifer didn’t think he was allowed time to heal.

“It’s my fault,” Amenadiel whispered, not wanting to admit it. “I’ve spent eons dragging him back to Hell by any means necessary and I wasn’t always gentle. I never gave him a chance to fully heal before tossing back to work and leaving again. He never broke that habit on earth, either. I lost count of the times that he cut off his wings before going about the day as if he wasn’t experiencing severe pain and blood loss. I never even questioned it.”

Silence answered his confession, as each sibling tried to digest what their eldest brother had said. Raphael was horrified. “He cut off his _wings_?! More than _once?_ ”

Amenadiel nodded. “They kept growing back. He thought Father was doing it though I have my doubts. I suppose we can ask, now that we’re both here.”

Gabriel looked ill, her face going deathly pale. “Why would he do that?”

Amenadiel shrugged. “I don’t think even Lucifer really knows. He says it was because they’re a representation of Father or something like that. I don’t think that’s it, though. Not really or maybe even not at all. Linda couldn’t tell me anything about it since that’s supposed to be confidential.”

Raphael frowned. “If he has been cutting them off and they have been re-growing, then where did those scars come from?”

Amenadiel looked at his sister, surprised. “What scars?”

Raphael moved to the huddled pair, soothing the Twins as she approached. With gentle hands, she parted some of the feathers of Lucifer’s right-wing. Just under those few feathers, rounded scars could be seen. Amenadiel sucked in a breath as he realized what he was looking at. “There are at least a hundred fifty of them, in each wing. I thought it might have been from the Rebellion or something in Hell. That can’t be possible if these are a new pair.”

“Those are bullet scars,” Amenadiel whispered. Three hundred bullet scars, at minimum, all over Lucifer’s wings. “He didn’t have those when I last saw him.”

What had happened after he’d brought Charlotte to the Silver City? Chloe had somehow found out Lucifer’s identity, proceeded to _poison_ Lucifer, and now his brother’s wings were covered in bullet scars.

“He got them from Cain,” Azrael spoke up. “Father wanted to know what had happened for Lucifer to kill a human, so He’d looked at what had been happening. Cain corned Luci and the _mortal_ and had a bunch of his people shoot them. Luci used his wings as cover for them both. It’s why Father wasn’t furious at Luci for breaking the rule. He told me what happened so I could clean up the feathers when I took Cain to Hell.”

“ _Cain_ did that?!” Gabriel asked dangerously. She had never been one to sit idle when her family was being hurt. “If Lucifer hadn’t already killed him, I’d be doing it right now!”

Only Ariel heard the most important part. “He got those because he was protecting Chloe Decker,” she said, sounding dazed. “Three hundred metal shard going through wing bone and sinew, feathers ripped out of place. All from the same human who gave him over to people that nearly destroyed him.”

“A lot of them healed over and had to be reopened,” Raphael spoke up, pointing to one of the scars. “The slash isn’t from the original wound. They would have been hours healed when this was done.”

They would have been kept at the crime scene until the LAPD had taken their statements and cleared them, Amenadiel realized. After that, Lucifer couldn’t have very well gone to the hospital, meaning he would have had to wait for Maze to get them out of reach bullets. That would have taken time as well, since Maze would have been coming from Linda. That was if Lucifer had bothered to even wait before trying it himself, which he could see his little brother doing. He didn’t voice his thoughts to his siblings. Lucifer wouldn’t have appreciated Amenadiel implying to anyone that he was weak enough to need help, even if that wasn’t what was being said at all.

When had being helped become a weakness to his brother?

“That’s all well and good,” Remiel broke in. “Except, how, exactly, did a _human-made_ weapon injure an _archangel’s wings_? Last I was aware, human’s had not been granted access to celestial or infernal metals.”

Her question caused many agreeing murmurs, as more of their siblings turned their attention from the sleeping pile to Amenadiel. As the only one who had been interacting with Lucifer regularly on Earth, his siblings had decided that he must have the answer.

“Chloe Decker,” he answered while trying to keep the sneer from his face. “We discovered early on that being near her let mortal weapons hurt Lucifer. It was one of the reasons he was so interested in her after they interacted some. We didn’t figure out she was a Miracle until Mother escaped and by then, he was already in love with her.”

Amenadiel paused. “Mother wanted to kill her, and I stopped her. I shouldn’t have.”

He should have let that bomb explode. It would have caused Lucifer grief, yes, but it would have been so much better than what had happened. What Chloe had done.

“He was in _love_ with the mortal?” Remiel asked, shocked. No one could blame her, Lucifer wasn’t known for his affections towards humanity. He’d always enjoyed their presence and the comforts they offered, liked interacting with them more than he enjoyed demons to the point he was willing to move permanently to earth in the end. That didn’t mean that Lucifer had ever made a meaningful connection to one before. The four humans that Father mentioned in His announcement had been seen as outliers.

“Yes,” Amenadiel let his anger show. “She knew it, too. It was how she managed to get him to drink the poison. She’d been pretending to go on a date with him. Told him she felt the same way.”

Growls filled the infirmary until a soft whimper from the bundle on the bed caused the surrounding angels to silence themselves. Love, for a celestial, was done with all that they were. It was why they had never been able to fully hate Lucifer after the Fall no matter how hard they all tried. Why, though they did not miss Her, they could not hate their Mother. Once a celestial loved, it was nigh impossible to destroy.

It was why Amenadiel suspected Lucifer still loved Chloe, regardless of what she had done to him.

In the end, that didn’t truly matter to Amenadiel.

Chloe Decker was never getting with ten feet of Lucifer _ever again_.

Amenadiel would make sure of it.

He was sure Maze would enjoy helping.

* * *

God stood in front of the Cells, gazing at the soul inside.

Unlike in the Hell loops or within the human part of the Silver City, the soul of William Kinley was unaware of anything. It could not think, nor could it feel while within the walls of the Cells.

A dark part of the Lord wanted to change that; wanted the soul that had dared to harm His child to be in agony. To know that it was being punished and to know why.

The calmer part of Him knew that such matters would be coming soon. Lucifer was alive and awake, now. His Morning Star was hurt, broken in a way that God didn’t know how to heal, wasn’t sure could be healed, but not lost. Not yet.

As long as there was hope of Healing, the Lord could reign in His temper to deal with this Soul properly.

He hoped.

A wave of His hand and the Cell opened. Another and the soul drifted lazily behind Him as he walked, heading towards the Court.

The Silver City was near deserted as He walked, His children swarming the infirmary to ascertain for themselves that Lucifer was conscious.

He regretted telling them everything. That Lucifer had been allowing himself to die. He knew, though, that it would be necessary. His children all needed to know to be careful around their brother now that he was awake. If they made a wrong move, He was afraid that His son could spiral until there was nothing left to save.

He should have told Amenadiel to let His Wife kill the Miracle when She’d wanted to. Lucifer’s rage at Him for it would have been worth preventing this.

He would have given anything to save His son from this.

Throwing the Soul into the wards that would keep it from moving from that spot, God turned to move towards his own seat. Ornate black metal dotted with swirling stars; it had been a present from His Twins when they had first started experimenting with their powers. His Wife had been given a reversed version; blinding white that contained what humans had since named Black Holes.

He had moved the chair to Her study after He’d banished her, sealing that part of the Silver City off from His children. He wondered when Their family had become so broken.

He hoped that they could piece the remainders back together again.

He cast His sight towards His children. Michael and Lucifer were still huddled together, both asleep this time. A simple brush of His power ensured they would remain that way, another to keep nightmares away.

Once finished, He called His children.

It was time for Judgement to be passed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the most I've written in less than a week in my life. Especially when you consider the 9000 words that didn't end up in this. Who knew that being sick could cause such a writing spree.
> 
> Might post the deleted and rewritten bits at a later date. Let me know if any of you would like to see where this could have gone.


End file.
